


Certificates

by FunfunMcphee



Category: Sdorica (Video Games)
Genre: Dorks in Love, Gen, M/M, Morris Lives! AU, it started as crackfic but now not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:53:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25071205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunfunMcphee/pseuds/FunfunMcphee
Summary: [Morris Lives! AU]Charle convinced Morris to get the adoption paper for Elio from the registry office in the city.Adoption paper isn't the only thing he found in the office.
Relationships: Charle Ceres/Morris Dietrich
Kudos: 22





	Certificates

So troublesome… 

Troublesome _troublesome **troublesome** **!**_

The sun is high on the sky, the street is bustling with vendors promoting their wares and people milling about doing whatever it is that he doesn’t care to pay the slightest attention to. Instead he marches through the crowd with single-minded determination and irritation that prompts the crowd to part and make way for him. 

Why does a genius like him have to be the one to go down to town and walk among these common monkeys, when he can be spending this precious time conducting his brilliant experiments?? Oh right! Because _a certain_ _someone_ convinced him to finally process the adoption paper for a _certain baby_. He’s already halfway regretting his decisions now. He almost yells in triumph when he finally spots the registry office. Intent on not wasting a single second of his precious time out here in the city, he makes a beeline for the office. 

When he steps into the office, he’s greeted suddenly with a strange wave of deja-vu. He looks around the interior of the office. It looks similar to any other office, pretty standard. Has he been here before? He can’t recall why he would ever need to visit a registry office though… Until recently. 

Right. 

Adoption paper. 

He briskly approaches one of the available counters, determined to get this over and done with as quickly as physically possible: request for the adoption paper, get the damn paper, and then get the hell out of this place and back to Rune Academy. He’ll figure out how to fill in the paper when he’s back in the Academy. Better yet, maybe he can make Charle fill in the damn paper since he was the one who coaxed him to come down here to fetch the paper himself in the first place. 

“Excuse me, I’m here to re--”

“Mr. Dietrich!” 

Morris looks up with a snap, sharp red eyes quickly pinpointing the owner of the voice that just called out his name. The caller is a rather chubby man who is currently ambling towards him with a jolly smile on his face. Judging by his uniform, he’s one of the clerks here. Morris frowns at the sight of the man; his mind vaguely recognizes this man, but he can’t really recall exactly when and where he has met him. It usually means the man had not left a strong enough impression for Morris’ brain to even bother recording any pertinent details about him. 

“Do I know--” 

“It’s really you! How’s your husband doing?!” 

Morris’ brain screeches to a stop. 

_What?!_

Morris’ mouth helpfully articulates his thought exactly: “... **_what?_ ** ” 

“Your husband? Tall man with long silver hair?” 

Is he describing--

“He’s doing well, I hope?” 

An image of said tall man with long silver hair flashes in his mind, with the additional detail of said man carrying a similarly silver-haired baby in his arms. The mouth moves faster than his brain (and common sense).

“Yes--” 

“Great! So you’re still together! I’m so relieved!” The clerk laughs while clapping his meaty hands, as if it is an achievement or some sort. 

Morris blinks a few times. _What the hell-- Wait wait WAIT GO BACK A LITTLE--_

“Wait, you said ‘husband’--” 

“Yeah?” The clerk says, looking seemingly perplexed _for some reasons that Morris can’t comprehend_. “Oh! Oh my, you don’t remember?”

“ _What_?” He’s getting tired of repeating this dumb one-word reply. 

The man laughs again, as if Morris has just said a very funny joke. There’s nothing funny here! What the hell is going on??

“Oh man… You really don’t remember, huh. Well it has been years and you two were pretty drunk back then.”

A sinking feeling drops in Morris’ stomach. 

“It was maybe, uh, 5 years ago? Or more. Can’t really remember. But it was late and we were about to close shop, but you and your man just suddenly burst into our office demanding to sign the marriage registry then and there!” 

If there is a hole somewhere in the vicinity, Morris wants to crawl into that hole right about three seconds ago.

“We told you guys to come back the next day, but you were pretty insistent! The strangest signing of marriage certificate I’ve ever witnessed.” The clerk laughs again.

The memory trickles into Morris’ mind unbidden. 

“You guys didn’t even have wedding rings prepared.” The clerk continues. 

_“...shit.”_

_“Well… ‘s not like rings would be practical for us…”_

_“Right… Chemicals and stuff… Whatchu got then?”_

“So instead you just declared your cufflink as your wedding ring, and your husband declared his hair tie as his? It was so bizarre! You both didn’t even bother to collect a copy of the certificate to bring home.”

_“Aaannnd… signed!”_

_“What’s next, officer?”_

_“Uh… You may kiss the groom?”_

_A smack of lips._

_“Let’s--” a giggle. “We should-- go back, Morris.”_

“Is… Can I see the paper?”

“Yeah, sure! Hang on, lemme fetch it.” 

So Morris is left standing there, looking rightfully bemused and a little (very much) anxious. The lady sitting behind the counter is stealing glances at him, but he ignores her as he is wont to do to just about everyone else. Besides, his brain is still whirring chaotically, trying to process and make sense of _what the hell happened_. 

By the time the clerk returns with a piece of paper, Morris’ brain is still not done processing. 

“Here ya go! Made a copy of it so you can bring this home.” The clerk smooths out the already smooth paper and offers it to Morris, his jolly smile still stretched wide across his chubby face. Morris can’t comprehend why this man is so happy about this. 

Then again, Morris is barely comprehending anything at this point. He just wordlessly takes the piece of paper from the man and stares unseeingly at it. 

“So what are ya here for, today?” 

“Adoption paper.” His mouth answers on autopilot, while his eyes are still glued to the signatures scrawled there at the bottom of the paper. 

“Adoption? You raising a kid with your husband?”

“Yeah…” 

“Congratulations!” 

Morris’ brain finally catches up and he realizes belatedly with no small amount of mortification that he probably shouldn’t have answered the earlier question with just a plain affirmative. But it’s already too late, since the clerk is already gushing about how adorable it is and how happy he is to hear that Morris is expanding his family and that he is wishing Morris all the best with raising a child and-- 

The clerk lady offers him the blank adoption paper. Morris practically snatches the paper from her. 

“Right. Thanks. Bye.” 

Morris spins around on his heels and marches back towards the entrance of the registry office, pointedly ignoring the clerk’s goodbyes and well wishes. Just as he’s about to reach for the door, he catches the tail end of the conversation among the clerks at the counter. 

“That was rather irresponsible, wasn’t it? They were both drunk.” 

“Trust me, man. With the way they were eyeing each other? That ain’t the look of two people doing this for shits and giggles.” 

“So you’re saying being drunk just lifted their inhibition?”

“Pretty much. They were drunk as hell, but I remembered hoping I won’t see them filing for annulment. They were so cute.” 

Morris flees the office. 

* * *

Morris stares at the certificate balefully. 

The certificate simply stares back at him as unimpressed as a piece of paper can be.

The moment he returns to his office in Rune Academy, he has devoted an entire 10 minutes to scrutinize the certificate, and the whole half an hour re-scrutinizing the paper approximately 5 times. His conclusion: this is a genuine article. The signatures scrawled at the bottom of the certificate, they were slightly uneven and _definitely drunk_ but those were most certainly theirs. This is legitimately a marriage certificate of Morris Dietrich and Charle Ceres. 

_“... change my surname to yours?”_

_“Nah… Stick with yours… sounds better.”_

Morris paces around the room restlessly, fingers combing through his messy hair as he tries to figure out…. What exactly does he need to figure out? The status quo? This is definitely going to change the status quo between him and Charle. Should he even let Charle know? He doesn’t even remember this either! Wait-- that’s his assumption but what if Charle did remember-- 

“Morris?” 

Morris groans. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts he didn’t even hear Charle entering his office. Bastard didn’t even have the decency to knock on his door! Well, not like Charle has bothered to knock on his door for the past years… And vice versa...

“Morris, what’s wrong? When did you come back?” 

“Bah!” 

Oh great. The baby is here too. Though in hindsight, that should be expected, shouldn’t it? After all, Charle promised to look after the baby if he would just go fetch the adoption paper himself. Why did he agree to it again? Oh right. _Taking a break from the baby_. 

So much for a break. 

Morris marches to his desk, snatches The Damn Paper from his desk, marches towards Charle (who is looking rather alarmed by now), and brandishes the paper to his face. 

“Read this.” 

“What’s this?” Charle shifts his hold of the baby to one arm as he warily takes the paper from Morris’ hand. He’s regarding the paper suspiciously as if it’s going to transform and bite his hand off. Or spontaneously combust. (Those are almost preferable). 

The baby squirms in Charle’s one-hand hold. He whines unhappily and stretches his chubby arms towards Morris. Charle leans his arm holding the baby towards Morris and Morris takes the baby from Charle’s arm. It happens so smoothly, so practiced, that the routine is barely even registering to either of them. Charle certainly doesn’t appear to be registering the movement and the implication, but Morris’ brain is hypersensitive to everything Charle-related at the moment, and--

_“How’s your husband doing?”_

The baby gurgles happily in Morris’ arms. Morris happily pays attention to the baby to drown the voices and images in his head. If the baby is surprised by the sudden attention from his usually grumpy foster father, he doesn’t show it as he’s more focused on trying to catch the little rune lights dancing around the tip of his foster father’s finger. 

“Morris, this--!” 

Morris looks up, and he forgets to breathe. 

Charle is staring owlishly at The Damn Paper, golden eyes round and wide, his cheeks flushed, mouth slightly agape, and the only intelligible thing that Morris’ brain can articulate right now is “cute”. Morris has full confidence in his mental acuity and intellect, but sometimes his brain can be so infuriatingly _dumb_. 

“Uh. Yeah.” 

Charle looks up from the paper to stare at Morris, and his cheeks flush brighter red. 

“I-- The date. Seven years ago.” 

Morris shrugs his shoulders awkwardly. The baby coos in his arms.

“The New Year Party.” 

_They were both acutely aware that they were very very drunk, but neither of them gave a damn about it. Their heads were buzzing pleasantly with the alcohol, their bones felt loose, and their clothes were certainly loose too. Their motoric control was pretty much busted by the amount of alcohol in their system, but it certainly didn’t stop them from giddily exploring each other in eager, greedy curiosity._

_They were cramped into some deserted corner of the academy, where even the bright lights of the fireworks couldn’t reach. The sounds of fireworks were ringing in the background, drowning their noises and the short whispers to each other’s ears._

_“...Ha….Happy near year, Morris…”_

_“Don’t… fucking start… with some cheesy lines…”_

_“...or wha’?”_

_The response to that cheeky reply was a light bite on the lower lip, followed by a muffled yelp._

_“Oh! Morris… Are we, uh, goin’ this year…?”_

_“...Wha’?”_

_“To the East ah-- Alliance.”_

_“Oh.”_

_Their hands were warm on each other’s skin underneath their rumpled clothes._

_“Yeah sure.”_

_“Hmm….” Charle stretched his body languidly, finding a more comfortable position without breaking contact with Morris. His bare hand stayed hooked around Morris’ nape loosely yet with steadiness that belied his intoxication level. “Juss’ the two of us?”_

_“Mmhm.” Morris’ breath was warm on his neck._

_“How sch--scandalous--” Charle’s breath tickled against his ear._

_Charle’s tipsy giggle was interrupted. The taste of liquor had long gone from their tongue, but they didn’t really pay attention to it._

_“They can think… wha’ver the hell they wanna…”_

_“Is that so... “ Charle pressed his flushed cheek against Morris’. Morris had such a nice soft cheek… “The great Morris Dietrich, how bold… ”_

_Morris scoffed._

_“...and you care too much.”_

_“Hmm… I guessss…”_

_The next few minutes were uninterrupted by words, as they simply resumed their exploratory activities of each other. The feel of each other’s hair, smooth skin, calloused fingertips, toned muscles that belied scholastic profession, slender waist, long eyelashes…_

_“Well… Since today is a special day…” Charle began with a woozy drawl._

_“...gonna do somethin’ daring?” Morris squeezed Charle’s side underneath his shirt. Charle twitched delightfully in response._

_“Hmm… maybe.” Charle runs his fingers through Morris’ hair. “...what shoulda do, hmmm…?”_

_“Somethin’ scandalous, obviously.” Morris whispers, a grin in his voice. “Otherwise, what’s point?”_

_“Hmm… Like what? Sneak out of the academy, find some random church, and convince the poor priest to marry us in secret?”_

_Morris burst into a laughter, loud and clear and oh so beautiful. Charle grinned giddily as he savoured the sound of Morris’ laughter. The man didn’t laugh often enough to his liking._

_“That… was so ridiculous. Have you been reading those th-rashy novels again?”_

_“It was just that one time and it was Barbara’s!” He slapped Morris’ forearm lightly._

_“You still read it.” He wheezed, forehead pressed against Charle’s shoulder._

_Oh, everything felt nice and loose._

_“Wuh--well if we’re getting married--” Morris drew back and slipped his fingers through Charle’s messy hair. “Doesn’t mean the East Alliance trip is a honeymoon then…”_

_“Fittin, isn’it.” Charle giggled again, cheeks flushed red and framed wildly by his silky hair._

_Morris pulled at those silver strands. Charle obligingly leaned forward so their lips could meet in the middle._

_“Well, you’ve got uh. Maybe one hour left? Two?” They tried to fumble through the mess to find their timepiece, but soon gave up._

_“Let’s go then--”_

_Robes hastily fastened and hair hastily combed by uncoordinated hands, they ran in the shadows of the Rune Academy’s architecture to sneak away and executed the first daring activity of the new year--_

“There was no church, so we settled for…”

“The registry office.” 

“And we didn’t have any wedding rings prepared.”

“So we used whatever we had on hand.” 

“I gifted you your cufflink.”

“And I gifted you your hairtie.” 

“And we both always wear those on our person.”

“....”

“.........”

Morris has had time to process this, but Charle… Charle is now making a rather strange pinched expression on his face, like he can’t settle between sheer embarrassment, mortification, disbelief, and… glee? He is still not looking at Morris, and he’s now covering his mouth with his closed fist, with his face still very much bright red. 

“Well… We can always… annul it.” Morris begins, tentatively, while observing Charle’s body language. 

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” Charle declares as he straightens up. 

Morris blinks. That… is a fast response. With such surprising assertiveness too, even though Charle’s face is still comically scrunched up between a smile and a grimace. 

“We made such an inconvenience for that poor clerk, didn’t we.” Charle chuckles to himself as he looks down at the paper again. 

“He was more entertained than anything else.” Morris mutters dryly, as he starts to bounce the baby in his arms who has started to whine again. 

“Was he?” Now Charle is definitely amused. “In any case, did you get the adoption paper?” 

“On the desk.” Morris nods his head in the general direction of his desk. “You go fill it up.” 

“Me?”

“Why yessir, since you made me go down there to fetch the da--paper. I did my part, so you do yours.” 

Charle makes a face at Morris. Morris makes a face back at him. The baby claps gleefully. Morris gives the baby a dirty look. The baby coos. 

“Oh, _fine_. Since I’m technically Elio’s father too now, I guess.” Charle walks around the desk, sits on Morris’ chair, tucks his hair behind his ear, and begins filling in the adoption form. 

Morris watches Charle work on the form for a while, his office filled by the sound of quill scratching against paper and the happy gurgling of a baby. His brain replays the past event that led to the recent current event, and what will possibly happen in future events. It takes all of his self control to prevent his facial muscles from breaking into some stupid dopey expression. He has had enough of looking (and feeling) dumb for today, dammit. 

His thought is interrupted when a tiny hand pulls at his shoulder robe. The baby is looking up at him with those wide blue doe eyes, face framed by downy silver hair. He definitely takes after his mother, huh. 

“So you have two fathers now.” He absentmindedly tells the baby. 

“Bah~” 

“Yeah, you should be grateful.” 

Charle just shakes his head with a smile at his partner’s childish antics as he continues filling in the adoption form. For all of Morris’ whinging about taking care of a baby, the man doesn’t do things by halves (though sometimes his priority list is rather skewed, considering he has planned Elio’s education but forgot to register his adoption).

“So he’ll be Elio Dietrich, hm?” 

“Elio Ceres sounds better.”

“You are the primary father, Morris.” 

“There is no such thing!”

“Elio Dietrich, it is.”

“Are you even listening?!” 

“And now you just need to sign here.”

“Oi!”

“Next to my signature.”

“You…” 

But Morris signs the paper anyway. Once he finishes signing the adoption paper, he realizes that the marriage certificate is right next to it, and their signatures are almost like a mirror on both certificates. Seeing them makes him feel all sorts of weird inside. 

“Well, I suppose I should store our certificate for safekeeping, and then submit the adoption paper to the registry office.” Charle declares with a rather satisfied tone. “I should bake the clerk a cake as a token of apology for the trouble we caused back then.”

“What?! It’s been seven years!”

“But he still remembers us. It’s only proper.” 

...On second thought. Maybe he should let Charle give his bioweapon grade cake to that clerk. It may mean one less witness to their dumb shenanigans seven years ago--

“Morris, what are you scheming…”

“Nothing. Anyway, are you going to inform the Board of… our arrangement?” 

“...Technically we should.”

Morris raises an eyebrow at that tone of voice. “But?”

“Well, they can’t really fault us if we don’t even remember that we got married, right?”

Morris stares wide-eyed at Charle. 

“We can make this our little secret,” Charle says, in an almost smug (and definitely conniving) tone. “Right, Elio Dietrich~?” He coos at the baby, and the baby coos back.

“Charle, you’re such a bastard sometimes.” 

“Well, you still married me.”

Now Morris is openly gawking at Charle, who is smiling coyly at him with mischief in his golden eyes. This guy! The sass! 

“You--!” 

“Language, Morris~” 

“Bah~!” 

“Shush you.” 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Toward the end of the day, Morris’ brain still can’t stop thinking about Charle’s coy sass and how much it turned him on. Dammit. 


End file.
